Don't Touch Me
by TR-Fanfic
Summary: Don't let the title fool you, this one is steamy. Mac makes a request of Harm before he goes back to flying in Goodbyes.


Don't Touch Me  
By TR  
Rated Mature

Description: Harm is going back to flying and Mac is having a difficult time letting him go. I took some artistic license here, as I'm sure neither of them would do this in the office, but the scene was so incredibly charged, that I chose to take it not just one step further, but all the way up the ladder.

Disclaimer: I don't own JAG, but if I did, I would have had Harm go with Mac to see Dr. McCool at least once.

"Damn you! Why am I the only one crying?"

He swallowed down the tears in his throat. Didn't know what to say. Loosening his hold he tried to pull back, just a little. Just enough to see her face. Wipe her tears once more. She wasn't having it. She clung to him as if her life, her heart depended on it.

"No," she whispered. "Don't let go yet. Not yet."

He complied, pulling her in to fit against his body. Holding her tighter. Stroking the hair at the back of her head in comfort, as her body began to tremble.

"Hey Mac. It's okay." He whispered. "I'm not going to be gone forever."

"You don't know that," she replied, her voice just as low.

He tried to pull back again, but she had him in a vice grip. "Yes I do."

If possible she tightened her hold on him. Her lips brushed his ear. "You don't. You don't know that Harm. You could...you could not come back. And even if you did..."

"Even if I did...?"

He felt sorrow rise inside her. "You won't come back to ME."

Shock ripped through him like so much electricity. Could she really mean...? Her hand moved over his back, memorizing him. Tracing every muscular hill and valley. He closed his eyes, rapt in the way she touched him. Suddenly knowing what it meant to be cherished. The knowledge of it rocked him. To the core. He felt her shift. Trail her hand up to take his. Pull back just enough to fit it between them.

Her breath came in shaky trembling gusts. Fanning his shoulder. She burrowed her face against his chest, as she placed his hand inside the fabric and over her breast. He didn't know when. Didn't take the time to sort it out. But somehow she'd managed to release the buttons of her blouse. All he knew was that his palm now rested over her soft, warm, bare skin. His breath caught in his throat as lightning bolts shot through his heart and his groin in equal staggering measure.

She pushed in, trapping his hand between them. "Oh God!" Her plea came in the form of a gasp. "Touch me! Just this once."

He rotated his wrist. Sliding his palm against her silky skin. They groaned together as her nipple hardened in his hand. His mind, body, heart screamed for her. But something deep down held him back.

"Mac," he whispered. "I can't do this."

"Harm...let me close my eyes and pretend,...just this once...that love has something to do with it."

"Oh baby," he breathed. "I want to. I'm sorry. I just can't."

She stilled. "Because you don't feel anything for me?"

He shifted his palm from the roundness of her breast and pressed it against her pounding heart. Moved her hand to rest on his chest over his. They beat as one. He held her eyes, willing her to understand. Somehow he thought she didn't get it. She was too busy believing that he didn't...

"Then don't. Don't touch me." She shifted, pressed her breast further into his palm. "Don't touch me if you don't feel anything for me." She lifted her face, kissed his. "Don't kiss me if your heart's not in it. Don't make love to me if love has nothing to do with it."

Her hands were all over him, her lips everywhere. He closed his eyes shrouded in her scent, her feel, her taste. How could he refuse her? How could he give in? He was leaving. She knew he was leaving.

Tears dripped down her cheeks. "I know you're leaving. But just this once...let me believe..."

"No, not this once." She began to pull away. Heartbreak, humiliation evident in her eyes. He drew her close again. "Not this once Mac. Don't you understand? It can't just be this once. If...if I touch you like this, I won't be able to leave you."

She reached up, laid a hand on his cheek. "Leave if you must, but when you come back..."

He turned into her hand, kissed her palm. "I'll come back to YOU."

His hand closed around her breast, fingers skimming over her nipple. She cried out a moment before she took him by the shirt and slammed her mouth over his. His world was whirling, his knees weak. Holy...! How had he passed this up for so long? Passed her up?

She kissed his neck and he heard her murmur, "don't touch me, if love has nothing to do with it."

He panted for breath, for control. "I won't touch you," he said kneading her breast. "...if love has nothing to do with it." At that he ripped her blouse wide open, and lowered his mouth to her breast.

End of scene.

Good? Bad? Bird nest soup? Let me know.


End file.
